The Dusk Troupe
by Cynthia Zharya
Summary: ON INDEFINITE HIATUS Better summary inside! In a world falling into ruin, seven people are among the thousands fighting for survival. However their story is not ordinary in any way. These once famous people have an adventure to tell...
1. Prologue

**A/N: This is a collab with an author who wishes to remain anonymous. I provided the plot, characters and script while she made it into a fully-fledged story. It's an attempted serious crack story, so feedback is encouraged. ^^**

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><p>Sometime in the past, a mysterious event wrestled the power of the Legendary Pokemon from them. Soon after, all the Pokemon in the world disappeared. Every single one of them. None were spared. No trace was left.<p>

The humans just woke up one day to find their battlers, pets, assistants, companions, _friends _gone. There was pandemonium and widespread chaos. Without Pokémon, countless things the world had taken for granted before were gone as well.

Power plants had to find more ways to generate the electricity once covered with ease by a legion of electric-Pokémon. With the absence of delivery birds, mail delivery once again reverted to a sluggish pace. Battling, Co-ordinating, Breeding- all out of the question. Worst hit were the people who relied on Pokemon for their profession – breeders, trainers and League members all lost their jobs.

For those still young, there was still a chance to learn a second trade. Something like accountancy or cooking or being a shopkeeper's assistant- boring, but at least you got a livelihood. For the stars whose career was built on their Pokémon, their situation plummeted. Some managed to pick themselves up, somehow-or-other land themselves with another job- a process nothing less than extremely awkward, and often very humiliating. Most of them, being almost living reminders of Pokémon and the past, were shunned.

In a society reeling from this devastating blow, many found it too much and chose to end their life. Others continued on what appeared to be a semblance of the past. Children –and even some adults- developed imaginary friends. Many sank into depression. Most tried to pretend that things were fine, that Pokémon didn't exist- never existed- and that they would get along fine without them anyway.

But there were still more to come, just as human civilization was beginning to make a comeback from the disappearance of the Pokemon. A few years later, another wave of darkness washed over the world. Sunlight dimmed mysteriously, as if the earth was cast into shadow- the land was forever stuck in the half-light of evening. Clocks stopped just then, at 7.30sharp. It was almost like the earth was stuck in limbo.

And then _they_ came.

The humans did not know it back then, but _they _were the ones who had orchestrated the fall of Pokemon and the advent of endless night.

The Lamia lived by absorbing others' life force through physical contact, killing their prey if all the life force is drained out. However, upon their arrival on earth they quickly developed a preference for human blood. In fact, it was more than just a 'preference'. The early generations of Lamia almost went mad at their first 'heavenly' taste of human blood- that was the extent of which this macabre source of nourishment appealed to the Lamia.

Human blood was supposedly so good, the Lamia decided that they _must _have more. They wanted continuous supply, in fact, and it would be even better if the humans were to bow down to them- they made good entertainment.

Settling down on Earth, their next conquest, the Lamia took over the running of the world. Obviously this frightened the humans very much, and at once they were labelled 'vampires' –but the society, with defences crippled by lack of Pokémon (both in the frontlines and the factory lines producing weapons) and the remaining humans still somewhat traumatized, quickly fell to the new race of rulers.

At first the Lamia gorged themselves, but later generations soon tempered their bloodlust and began living up to their role as rulers and not simply predators. Blood was mostly taken in moderation, and humans gradually climbed up the societal ladder to 'servants' rather than 'source of food'. Some even say that the pale, willowy humanoid forms of the Lamia were an evolved trait to help them settle into this world better.

Soon Lamia agents –in most cases, simply "lesser" Lamia who still had superiors to report to- were in every company and organization, and their laws had to be strictly obeyed. The most common form of punishment was the blood tithes and even reasonless demands for blood were now a daily occurrence in places governed by the more corrupt Lamia. Most of these agents were simply supposed to ensure that the humans conformed to the new rule, and stamp out any rebellion- however, in most cases these agents were dictators in themselves.

Life continued on the planet, albeit in vastly different conditions than what it was a few years before. The perpetual darkness cloaking the world echoed the desolation of the humans. Some took the disappearance of the Pokémon and the arrival of the Lamia as a sign that the reign of the humans was over.

Most of the humans just wearily accepted their fate, being preoccupied with surviving or believing that there was no point prolonging the dying struggles of the human race. Those who rebel do so in secret now, for the foolish ones who openly opposed the Lamia without strategy or plan were quickly disposedo f.

So far the Lamia played the mostly benign rulers, seeming content with just observing and taking part in the day-to-day affairs of humans –and of course, the more-than-occasional taking of blood to sustain themselves. But on second glances, they seem to be planning something deeper and more sinister than what they have done so far.

What could this "master plan" be, if it even exists? Could it be possible that the Lamia's conquest of earth conceals a hidden motive; rule of the humans not an end in itself but a means to an end yet achieved?

Of course, this is an unexplored field of thought. Those that have time and energy have devoted them to the cause of someday overthrowing the Lamia and reclaiming their homeland, and most humans are usually preoccupied with trying to get by.

This story follows one such group of humans.

Unable to find jobs, food or even a roof over their heads, these outcasts have banded together as a group of performing travellers that entertain for their next meal- at least it's better than outright begging for money.


	2. Chapter 1 : Not Another Beginning

Coins jingled as they were dropped against the wooden countertop, scraping against the weathered surface as they were eagerly swept into an open palm.

"Thank you, thank you for your kind patronage!" The barmaid said, all smiles as she discreetly pocketed the tip. "If you're looking for entertainment, there's a performance out at the back I'd recommend!"

The pale humanoid the girl was addressing nodded curtly and ignored the rest of her formalities, stepping with a brisk tread out of the bar. Once the customer was gone the barmaid's smiled dropped; she turned around and quickly counted her prize. With a sigh of satisfaction she pocketed the money again, pausing to tuck a stray strand of her dull blue-grey hair into its proper place–and then fastidiously check the rest of her hairdo- before wiping the countertop with a rag in preparation for the next customer.

"Hey, girl."

The barmaid didn't look up at the familiar voice of the bar owner, because there were easily a dozen other girls working in this place for some money and she hadn't gotten into trouble lately-

"Hello, talkin' to you here- 'ey! Wisteria! Look up, wretch!" Wait, the voice was coming from across the counter. The barmaid turned her eyes upward, her gaze a lighter and prettier shade than her hair, catching passively the stare of the bar owner.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, lass. Don't just stand there- take a seat! …I just wanted to thank ya for the help- and of course, all the business your weird troupe of friends are bringin' me." The burly bar owner quirked a smile as a wave of clapping echoed from a back room of the bar. "Don't think those 'vamps have seen anything remotely like a circus before- don't tell 'em I said that!"

Wisteria nodded agreeably. "Of course not. That would compromise both of us."

"So I was wondering, would you be willing to work here some more? Your weird friends could permanently get that room at the back-"

"-will you be paying me?"

The bar owner was surprised by the sudden interruption. "Uh…well…not really…you know how hard it is to make a living nowadays, and you're really well off anyway with all the tips…"

Wisteria raised an eyebrow sceptically. "And will you still be charging rent for that performance room?"

"…I've already cut the price down to the bone, lass, it can't go no lower."

The barmaid stared at the counter for a while, silent except for the occasional 'hmm.' When she looked up, her expression wasn't optimistic. "Then unfortunately, no. We don't have the funds or resources to stay long, and besides I've recently found better paying jobs."

Catching the bar owner's disappointed expression, Wisteria hastily continued; "but… perhaps I might approach you again in the future? You'll never know what might happen…would that be a longstanding offer or one just for tonight?"

"Oh, do come by whenever you can. My bar will always welcome your troupe." The bar owner replied, smiling a bit again. Another wave of cheers came from the back room and customers began to leave; most seemed satisfied with the performance that had just ended.

_I think your bar simply welcomes the extra cu__stomers and extra money, sucker; _Wisteria thought before she rose to join her friends in the back room.

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><p>"From what I heard outside the audience seemed to enjoy it;" Wisteria remarked, looking down at a piece of scrap paper she was scribbling on with a pencil stub.<p>

"Of course they did." Another person replied, lounging on one of the two beds fitted snugly into the medium-sized hotel room. The room itself wasn't too bad, with dull cream walls, two beds that weren't filled with lice (for once), and a small bathroom to be shared with the next room's occupants.

He turned to lie on his back, aqua blue hair splaying out on the grey bedsheets as he stared wistfully at the featureless ceiling with cerulean eyes. "We're the best of our profession, right? Or at least, we used to be."

This statement evoked a sigh from many occupants of the room.

"Stop hogging the bed, Wallace." Ignoring Wallace's yelp of surprise, the man that had spoken aimed a second unceremonious kick that sent the aqua-haired Wallace back to the edge of the bed. With another sigh, the man adjusted his red tie and joined Wallace in inspecting the ceiling, tearing his blue-green eyes away from the worn case on his belt. The one that held eight rusty badges and a broken collar pin that read _Champion_. "_How the mighty have fallen._"

"You're unusually depressed today, Steven." A female voice teased, its owner reclining on the edge of the other bed. Golden locks pooled on the bed around her, and even though her fringe curled elegantly over one eye –covering it entirely- the lady didn't seem to mind. "Weren't you the Champion that _resigned_ from his post long before this whole disappearing-Pokémon-Lamia-invasion episode? Regretting that decision now, or has Wallace's dramatism finally rubbed off on you?"

The lady's comment triggered a short bout of laughter throughout the room. It was temporary, but at least it eased up the tension and sadness for a while. The loudest laugher was a plain-looking girl with brown hair, tangling herself further in the cape she wore in her fit of mirth.

"_Cynthia!_" Steven groaned in exasperation, although there was a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "Don't laugh like that, Zilyana- you look stupid, and like you're one to laugh." The silver-haired man –who was, indeed, the only _ex_-Champion in the group- vented his 'anger' on his successor Wallace, sending the aqua-haired man tumbling to the floor with a third kick. Wallace was still laughing.

Wisteria scrambled out of the way with her scrap of paper, fighting back giggles.

The door opened, and a teen quietly slipped in –clothed in dark fabric from head to toe, he moved to Wisteria and urgently whispered in her ear. Wisteria glanced at her piece of paper with a raised eyebrow, wrote down something and stared at it again, her smile deepening to a frown.

"Hey guys, I've got bad news."

The room quietened down. When Wisteria had bad news, it was usually _bad _news.

"You know how this place is quite an expensive place? Well, we did make quite a bit so far, but I still don't think it's enough to pay the rent and get us food and all that. Especially now that Orion has told us the rent's been raised."

Silence. Everyone ogled at Wisteria. Wallace immediately flipped onto an upright position, staring at the blue-haired girl disbelievingly.

"Are you…serious?" Zilyana asked, eyes wide.

With a glance at Orion, who nodded fervently, Wisteria nodded as well. "Completely serious. They're collecting the rent at the end of the week. At this rate, minus all the food and necessities, we're still short. We _might _be able to pay up if we perform every day and get a good reception, but you know things are most of the time….we were very lucky today, actually…"

"And if we don't pay up…" Cynthia started, and then quickly decided against finishing the sentence. Because no, in this kind of high-end city the hotel owners didn't just throw you out and slam the doors in your face. Every second you spent in their rooms was charged and would be paid for, and if you didn't you would have to work off your debt. The Lamia rulers turned a blind eye to the frequent revenge kidnappings and horrible conditions of the mines or factories the kidnapped were sent to work at, because it generated lots of cash and that's what mattered.

Besides, more deaths equalled more blood.

In fact the group wouldn't even have _been _in that room if it wasn't one of the cheapest around.

The group's disturbing thoughts were broken by a series of unnaturally high-pitched whimpers. Everyone whipped around to face Wallace, who was rocking back and forth on the edge of the bed with his knees hugged to his chest- and shuddering violently. The haunted look in his eyes was unmistakable.

"If we don't- if we don't pay- pay-pay up- t-then-"

He was having one of those unexplained panic attacks again.

"_Wallace!_"

Steven was the fastest to act, being the closest- in moments the panicking Wallace was bundled up off to the _other _room they had rented, the room no one wanted to enter unless it was serious because they didn't really trust the occupant within.

"As I was saying," Wisteria repeated, brandish her scrap of paper. "We need money. And fast. So, being the awesome person who settles everything for you, I got us jobs~"

Several pairs of eyes followed the blue-haired girl as she pulled out a wooden crate from under the bed, opened it and heaved out…

…a pile of lace.

On second glances it _wasn't _exactly a pile of lace, just a pile of doubtlessly itchy fabric in sickly-sweet pastel colors. The headdresses Wisteria took out next were worse, with a copious amount of frills and lace on each.

"Sorry;" Wisteria started apologetically. "It's hard to find random jobs in this kind of city, where everyone already has assistants and apprentices hired. It was quite a stroke of luck that I found a family entertaining some Lamia gentry in a few days and desperately needed the extra help. We've done servantwork before, and this one pays quite well, so…"

The rest sighed in a resigned matter as Wisteria got on to handing out the fabric- actually uniforms. "Since Zilyana will practically _die _in any form of maid's uniform and then we wouldn't get the money, I got the kitchen's assistant job;" Wisteria narrated as she handed the cloaked Zilyana a plain apron. "And then for the rest of us…I've got three maids' uniform and one footman's. Most of the visiting gentry were Lamian noble_women_, unfortunately."

No one really knew why Wisteria was explaining so much today, usually she just told everyone what they were supposed to do and they did it. That was, until they were down to Orion and Steven.

Who were both guys.

And before them on the bed, Wisteria had laid out the footman's uniform…_and a maid's_.

"I repeat. Three maids, _one _footman." Wisteria emphasized, turning to look at the two expressionlessly. "Do the math."

The others stopped scrutinizing their uniforms and turned to look. A smile crept across Cynthia's mouth, barely restrained amusement showing in her features. She glanced at Zilyana, who quirked a cheeky smile back, then moved her gaze back to the two men- who looked at the two uniforms on the bed in horror.

Wisteria snorted. "You think I'd waste so much breath justifying myself someone wasn't going to get…well…really badly burned, metaphorically?"

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><p><strong>AN: /insert cliffhanger here**


	3. Chapter 2: Conflict

**A/N: Sorry for the delay. Chapter 3 is actually already ready, but I won't post it just yet.**

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><p>Zilyana blinked, sitting up and rubbing her head with a groan.<p>

"Sorry, folks!" The manager called out from the door. "But as you know, those Lamian folk come first, and we're short of rooms. As a token of apology I'll give you a little discount on the rent." He scooped up the group's barely-filled coin sack –ignoring Wisteria's wail of protest- and tossed a fraction back out before taking the rest with him back into the hotel.

The back door was then slammed into the group's faces, leaving them out in the street in the dead of the night.

"Did we just get thrown out of the hotel to make space?" Zilyana asked bleakly, looking around at her friends.

"We're sitting out in the street and not in some cosy hotel bed." Orion replied flatly. He paused, and then added as an afterthought; "do the math."

Some of the group laughed weakly; that line had become Wisteria's catchphrase over the months.

"Speaking of 'doing the math'," Wisteria piped up, "we should all take the time to do some math now. That hotel manager just took almost all our earnings. We're out in the streets with no idea what to do next. We only have enough money for perhaps one meal, and we definitely won't be able to afford staying anywhere else. While _I'm _the one usually doing all the calculations, solving for 'how we're going to end up' should be simple enough for you."

The rest of the group all stared at her.

"Sleeping in a field." Orion answered.

"Shut up, Wisteria." Steven groaned at the same time.

A pause.

"What are we going to do now?" Wallace wailed, breaking the silence.

"I guess we're going to end up doing what Orion suggested;" Cynthia sighed, a resigned edge clear in her voice. "We go find the nearest habitable field."

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><p>Fields turned out to be better than expected. The group found a little paddock in the outskirts of the city- one that led up to a cliff overlooking the harbour. They climbed over the dirty picket fence that bordered the path and cleaned up the leftovers of the last group of homeless wanderers- empty cans and bottles, mutilated rags which once could have been clothes or a blanket.<p>

Other than the trash, it wasn't too bad- better than anything the city could offer, at any rate. The night air was cold and sleeping on uneven ground was uncomfortable -not to mention _dirty_- but the grass provided some comfort.

"This isn't too bad;" Cynthia said in a rather surprised way, making herself comfortable on a random patch of grass. Further off, Wisteria was screaming about bugs and Zilyana was complaining about burrs.

"Must be better than those ruins you used to explore." The nearby Steven joked, not at all bordered about his lack of a bed.

"Yes, quite better." Cynthia agreed. "And your caves, too."

"And my caves. Obviously." A pause. "I'd even venture to say that this might be better than our old Champion's quarters-"

"Head's up!" Wisteria yelped, making everyone start in surprise. "Bunch of people heading our way, and they don't look very happy!"

"_Of course we're not happy, wretch_!" One of the approaching figures growled, sinking onto all fours and bounding even faster towards the little paddock. "You're on our turf, trespassers; and we don't look very well on trespassers."

It was clear by now that these were not normal people. The man that had spoken stood up on two feet again, exhaling heavily. His features were doglike and his hair was a tangled dark grey, along with the fur growing on his limbs and the sides of his face. A tail swept the ground where he stood, kicking up a cloud of dust.

Cynthia, now standing like the others, held out her hands hurriedly. "Wait! We didn't know this was your territory- we're sorry, and we'll just leave now-"

"Too late." The wolf-man snarled. "Unless, perhaps, you'd like to pay me and my boys a toll?" He waved a paw, indicating the five other people. Some of which were as deformed in appearance as he –one sported shrivelled and leather wings, another had his skin turned into some horrible rough hide. A few seemed normal and wielded guns.

"We don't have much money." Steven replied, offering what little they had left. "So I don't think mugging us would be worth it-"

"_No!_" Wisteria snapped, springing forward and snatching the precious coins away. "No toll, muggers; go _earn _your money like you're supposed to." Catching the dubious glances of her friends, the blue-haired girl added; "we're circus performers! We can take them!"

The gang laughed. The wolf-man leered at the group. "_Circus performers_? And they want to stand up to us? Fergus, go show that lass what exactly they're up against."

A muscled thug –fully human, but just from the looks of it- lumbered over to Wisteria, unsheathing a sharp knife that glinted in the moonlight. Fergus thrust the knife under Wisteria's chin, holding the blade against her neck and forcing her gaze up to look at him.

"Nice knife." Wisteria commented idly, to the guffaws of the gang. Then suddenly-

-_Crack!_

The whiplash crack started the gang members- especially Fergus who cried out in shock as what looked like a silvery serpent lashed out and coiled around his knife. Wisteria flicked her wrist and the serpentine thing flexed, sending the knife flying into the air.

Another flick of the wrist, and the 'serpent' let out the whip crack again. That was all it was. A modified whip, the very shiny and very _metal_ cords that wove to form the rope gleaming silver under the moon's glow.

"We're circus performers." Wisteria repeated as her groupmates fanned out behind her, getting ready for the inevitable fight. She stepped aside, making room for Wallace- who stood at the head of the formation. His impeccable ringleader's act was up again, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes and if you looked carefully, he was shaking just a bit.

Wallace casually swept his hand out, then flicked his wrist in the same way Wisteria did- the wolf-man yelped as a stream of water materialized out of nowhere, arched towards his face and slapped him on the cheek.

The resemblance between the two was almost too much- Wisteria gave her whip an experimental flick again, and Wallace mirrored her with a small tendril of water that he seemed to have control over. The two groups stared down each other again, before Wallace coyly spoke again.

"We wouldn't be able to amaze an audience if we didn't have a few tricks up our sleeves, now would we?"

The wolf-man snarled in fury. "Attack!"

The assault started with a rapid blazing of guns. Little explosions of light and noise erupted from the muzzles of the manmade weapons- mostly machine guns and a few revolvers- but amazingly, the group remained standing. A little tightly huddled together, but none fell from the spray of bullets.

Wisteria had hopped back, dragging Wallace along with her- the silver-haired Steven stepped forward and flung out a hand, the bullets heading towards him simply ricocheting off some invisible thing before they could hit anyone. A little smirk tugged at the side of his mouth as he snapped his fingers- the mysterious shield revealed itself to be…well, a shield. The barrier flashed a dull blue-green for a while before fading into invisibility again, but the few moments was enough to signal to everyone that it was there.

Wisteria let go of Wallace after the first assault of bullets, confident that Wallace would at least not be smashing into any protective force-fields now that he'd seen where the barrier was. Like the girl had expected, Wallace skirted around the shield and lunged towards the heart of the attacking gang, his gestures somehow calling forth a stream of cold water to jettison up from the harbour below and smack into random gang members. With an irrational surge of viciousness Wallace started attacking anything within attacking radius.

More rounds were fired, but they ricocheted off the now-invisible shield with increasingly bright sparks of light. With a snarl the wolf-man charged forward on all fours, stopping where the shield was last visible. With a howl claws erupted from his knuckles, sharp and bright under the full moon. The wolf-man tested his blades, and the slashed.

Three bright claw-marks shimmered on the invisible shield, and then he was through. Cynthia tensed and unfurled her twin black fans, but Orion was already there, parrying and dealing dull blows with his double-bladed staff. Angvar, the one with horribly thick and armoured skin, charged after his leader, but was blocked out. Wisteria and Wallace took it as their chance, and moved to the edge of the shield to exchange blows with the giant.

Zilyana took the oppoturnity to tear off her cape – to reveal strong and muscled wings erupting from her back. They were dark violet on the insides and a bold maroon on the outside, but what set them apart from normal hawk wings were the serrated blades protruding from the leading edge. She picked up a random pole lying around – from a broken streetlight, perhaps – and did a running takeoff to soar into the air.

From the other side, Moran did a vertical takeoff and glided to meet Zilyana in the air. His wings were noticeably larger and were draconian in nature, but his flight was laboured and it took longer for him to change direction. He was unarmed, but there seems to be something else he had under his sleeve.

"Die, wretch." Seeing Zilyana rush towards him brandishing a pole, Moran took the liberty of a brief curse before he inhaled deeply. A plume of iridescent flame spurted out between his jaws, catching his opponent by surprise. Zilyana lost height to avoid the flamethrower, but she quickly gained upon her attacker.

On the ground, the duel was just as fierce. The gang members alternated between firing rounds at wherever the shield could not cover and using Angvar as a meat shield to block Wallace's surges of water. Orion's rapid blows with his staff proved ineffective, and he withdrew behind Steven's shield for the umpteenth time. Cynthia's dual bladed fans took their turn at slicing cuts into the gang members' back, but after Angvar was dispatched this was not of much use as well.

With a hiss of frustration Wallace did a dramatic gesture, summoning up a tremendously large column of water which coiled itself into a vague serpentine shape. He sent it at the gang members with a cackle of glee, but in a moment of inattention the serpent went for Steven instead.

Cynthia screamed as everyone else shouted, "WRONG TARGET, WALLACE!" at the top of their lungs. Noticing his mistake, Wallace grinned sheepishly and sent the serpent at the gang with a flick of his wrist, however letting a small jet of water continue along its original trajectory. Steven huffed, but couldn't spare any time to retaliate.

The blue torrent of water glowed a luminous blue under the moon's light for a few moments before smashing into the gang. Of the members, only Angvar remained standing, shielding his boss with his body. Moran was still aloft, trying to fry Zilyana with his fiery breath.

At last Zilyana couldn't dodge anymore. A plume of flames caught the tip of her metal pole, and she screeched as the heat conducted through the metal to her hands. Bringing the pole upon her assaulter's head with a very audible bang, she dropped her weapon and immediately descended to land behind her teammates. Moran was unprepared for the attack and was knocked unconscious, falling to the ground with a thump.

Steven winced. "That's gonna _hurt_."

Orion stepped forward confidently, and with a snap of his fingers brought Angvar around to face him. The two stared at each other for a few moments. Slowly, the giant became rigid, and with a loud bang fell, hypnotized, upon the floor.

Zilyana blew upon her burnt palms as she landed. The wolf-man, seeing most of his gang incapacitated, gave a howl of frustration and charged for the nearest target - Wallace. However, before he could reach the ringmaster, someone had entered the battlefield between them.

"Stop!"

The command instantly brought everyone to a freeze and they turned to look at the newcomer. He was deathly pale, with the almost transparent skin and golden eyes of the Lamia. However, he seemed to have run here, and he seemed to be quite tired out from the effort.

The wolf-man hesitated for a few moments, then bounded towards the supposed Lamia, claws outstretched at the ready. His target did not flinch and instead held out his hand. The assaulter was instantly frozen as a silver thread inched its way out of his chest and into the Lamia's palm.

A few seconds passed before he released the draining hold, and the now-defeated wolf-man fled along with the conscious members of his gang. The Lamia now turned to the rest of the group.

"Thank you, Lucian." Cynthia said.

It was certainly very weird to be in the former Elite Four Member's presence. After a mysterious event had transformed him into one of the hated rulers of the planet, the relationship between the two had become strained. Sure, Lucian had lacked the dexterity and physical prowess of the pure-blooded Lamia, but there was still an element of danger from being around him. He was the supposed 'agent' in control of the traveling troupe, but he had been nicer to them than other Lamia agents.

Lucian inclined his head. "I have come to find you. I convinced the hotel manager to get us a reduction in rent, so now I suppose we wil have enough to travel onto the next town if we have the earnings from the job tomorrow." He handed a small satchel over to Wisteria.

The girl opened the pouch and gave a cry of disappointment upon discovering that his statement was indeed true. "Couldn't you have done a little more?" She grumbled.

Steven gave her a warning glare, but it was too late – Lucian's eyes narrowed briefly, then he sighed, "My place in the hierarchy isn't that high to guarantee more. I have done all I can." Turning to Cynthia, he addressed her, "I believe you will heal them promptly, and I shall not disturb you." With that, he turned and vanished into the night.

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><p><strong>AN: Time for review replies!**

**Snowkittyn:** Don't worry, Pokemon will be back soon. However, the form that they are in might not be familiar to you.

**Pink Bottle of Kiseki**: :D Cliffhangers are fun. Expect more to come.

**Perpetual Dreams**: I haven't mentioned Lance. I currently don't have plans to include anime characters (includes Gary), but Alder may appear in the future.

Thanks for reviewing!


	4. Chapter 3 : What in the Name of Arceus?

Wisteria leaned against the porcelain wall tiles of the bathroom, carefully folding up a set of clothes. Ignoring the slosh of water coming from behind the (thankfully opaque-walled) shower compartment which obviously indicated that someone was _bathing _inside -_what _are you doing in there Wisteria?- the blue-haired girl casually inspected the slightly-worn clothes for tears or stains or other things.

Although they had fallen on hard times, a formal-style taste still showed in the clothes, quite classy for those in its price range. A dark grey shirt with purple buttons and a simple design that could nonetheless pass off as an attempt at elegancy, coupled with a pair of black pants. In pretty good condition, too-

Wisteria paused in her appraisal, eying the pastel-coloured mass of lace that hung from the top of the divider wall- a piece of clothing she herself had replaced for the clothes that she held in her hands right now. He should have noticed the switch by now-

"_Graaahh! What in the name of Arceus_-"

Speak of the devil. The pastel cloth was flung out of the compartment and pale hands scoured the divider, looking for their owner's clothes- which were well out of reach in Wisteria's hands. Wisteria smiled sweetly -even though the person within wouldn't be able to see.

"Hello, Steven."

"_Argh!_" A dull _thud, _probably the result of Steven hitting against something in shock. "Wisteria? What are you _doing _in here? …have you seen my clothes?"

Wisteria kept up the sweet smile. "Oh, I'm very much here on purpose. Remember the little conundrum between you and Orion regarding that one maid's dress, and how that turned out?"

There was a groan from within the shower compartment. "Don't remind me, Wisteria."

"I decided I should just get your whining over with now instead of on the day of the job, I'd _never _have enough time to work out the kinks and details otherwise. You're a bit slow today, Steven; why am I explaining this to you? Shouldn't you have perhaps taken a second look before you flung that foreign piece of fabric away?" She picked up the mass of lace and carefully draped it over the divider again, standing on her tiptoes to reach. The cloth disappeared over the divider, and there was a pause.

"…you can't be serious."

"You're mistaken. I'm very serious."

"Wisteria, give my clothes back."

"Finally caught up, have you? I'm sorry, but you'll have to make do with what you've got at the moment."

"But this is a _dress_!"

"Exactly. To be specific, it's actually a maid's dress. Most dresses aren't that filled with ribbons and lace."

"…_Wisteria_!"

"I _knew _you were going to whine like this. Lucky this isn't the actual day itself, I'd certainly not have time for this kind of temper tantrum…"

"_Temper tantrum_? Wisteria, you're telling me to _wear a maid's dress_! How on earth am I supposed to just go with it?"

"It's your fault the coin we flipped like Orion better. Besides, I'm fine with playing the random maid anytime, so don't expect a satisfactory answer to that question."

"Wisteria…just give me back my clothes. _Please_." The last word sounded more like a threatening growl than a plea, but still Wisteria was unfazed.

"I'm sorry but I'm not taking 'no' for an answer. Your refusal is understandable and even expected, but I'm no pushover either. If you insist, let's play the waiting game then. I should add that I'm in a much more favourable position than you as far as waiting for someone to give is concerned." Wisteria nodded, still with her sugary smile- she swung the bathroom door open, letting a cold draft sweep in.

There was much shuffling from behind the shower compartment. "Wisteria, s-stop that! I-it's cold!"

Wisteria smiled sweetly again, a wicked glint in her eyes. "That's the point, Steven. Won't you put something on, then, if it's so cold?"

"…if the d-dress is the only t-thing I've got, t-then I'd rather n-not."

Wisteria didn't think the dress was too bad, but then again it was vastly different from Steven. But she had the rest of the group to be responsible for here, and not doing one's part to bring in some bacon was _unacceptable_. "If you insist…"

"I insist."

Wisteria closed the door. It would be going a bit too far, and if Steven caught the flu- well Steven better not catch anything.

[sometime later]

One wouldn't expect Wisteria to be the one snapping as early as half an hour into the standoff, but they were wasting daylight here. She had already sent the rest of the group off for something-or-other, and if they got back before this was done with…

...long story short, Steven's life would probably be over.

"I'd be happy to continue waiting, but unfortunately I have a schedule here. If you're not coming out, I'll be calling Wallace and the others."

"…you're just _cruel_."

Wisteria sighed indignantly. "_Excuse me_; I at least had the decency to chase the others out first. I don't know when they'll be back. If you don't want to get this over with fast, I can't guarantee that someone won't walk in on us in this situation. And that wouldn't be too good for you if that were to happen, would it?"

Silence. "Is there really no other option?"

"No."

"Please?"

"Don't try to plead with me, Steven. I highly doubt you're capable of pulling off a puppy-eyed look and I shudder to think of what you'd look like trying."

More silence.

"…you won't laugh?"

Wisteria let herself smile again, despite wanting to maintain an aloof façade. Steven was breaking, and hopefully far earlier than whenever the others would get back. Good. She let some measure of earnestness show in her voice, knowing from experience how to finish springing the trap. "I'd probably go back on my word and laugh anyway if I promised…nothing personal, seriously. But I won't blackmail you with it later, that's one thing I can promise- unlike some people we know."

She meant Wallace. Because there wasn't any way Wallace wouldn't let this go if he ever found out about it. Wisteria hoped that the extra silence that followed meant that Steven was considering, and continued on before any shred of doubt could form.

"If you'd like, after this I'm fine with pretending nothing happened. In fact, if you co-operate I can make it very painless. As painless as possible. None of the others will ever realize that you've worn anything remotely like a dress. Trust me." Wisteria only had a vague idea on how fooling everyone else was going to be possible, but nevermind. She'd get to that one later.

…

"If you plan to come out of there anytime soon," Wisteria added, squinting at the frosted divider glass in an attempt to detect any movement, "tell me first." _I'd need to mentally prepare myself. _

Wisteria glanced at the door, thinking of the random accessories in the room beyond she had prepared- if Steven could pass off as an actual maid the first time round, something would be freakishly wrong.

She had some cheap hair extensions (not targeted at Steven or anything, but the pale greyish 'colourless' ones were the cheapest), other parts of the uniform such as the headdress and lots of spare ribbons (she'll get to figuring out where all the ribbons were supposed to go…soon) and some makeup (because there was no way a teenage girl who was related to the show-off also known as Wallace could not have makeup), to name some.

…maybe she should get something for her eyes first. Wisteria didn't think eye bleach actually existed, so maybe just a blindfold?

[the next day]

Cynthia didn't look too bad in a servant's uniform.

She was used to wearing black anyway, although the added frills and accessories were a bit uncomfortable at first- anything for the money to tide them through, she guessed. Strangely, parts of _this _uniform were some over-sweet pink colour, but Cynthia simply assumed that it was because the 'Lamian gentry' she was serving were just really girly adolescents.

'Lady Esperion' (or whatever the lady she was serving was called) pompously waved a milk-white hand and shooed Cynthia off to go get some ribbons for her rather unnaturally straight hair. Cynthia bowed, plastered a fake smile on her face and backed out of the door, thankful for the break.

Working as a servant was...not in her blood. The blonde sighed as she hurried along looking for ribbons; she missed the good old days- even the relentless media and ridiculous rumours about her Pokémon being on steroids or whatever was better than _this_. But then again, who _didn't _wish for the old times back?

Steven had snapped yesterday, somehow sneaking out and leaving the group a note saying how he _refused _to put on a dress despite how much they needed the income- Cynthia really hoped that he was okay. And that he would get back soon.

Cynthia snapped out of her musings, catching a glimpse of Wisteria turning a corner. "Hey Wisteria," she started, "have you seen any hair ribbons-"

She stopped when Wisteria finished rounding that corner. The younger girl was similarly garbed in atrociously frilly gear, her hair neatly pulled back and secured with a ribbon, her face radiant with excitement. Extremely unusual for Wisteria. Then Cynthia saw the maid who followed.

There seemed nothing wrong at first, except for her somewhat awkward and embarassed demeanor. Similarly clothed in a maroon blouse and slighter darker knee-length skirt with a pastel pink apron over the top and frilly lace all around, her silvery hair secured with ribbbons, overall coming off as sweet and harmless; she looked like any other maid. But then-

_Holy Arceus._

"Oh my."

"Exactly!" Wisteria chirped, pulling the other girl (who looked like she wanted to crawl in a hole and die) forwards. "Doesn't she look so..._so much like Steven_?"

Wisteria had a very valid point.

Speaking of Wisteria, the girl was busy laughing internally at the way Cynthia was falling for it- and trying not to actually laugh, or look at the 'girl' beside her.

Yep, this was totally part of the wonderful plan to ensure no one would ever know that Wisteria had really made a breakthrough in trying to force a dress on Steven. Don't say anything.

_No laughing, Wisteria. Sticking to your cover story. The person beside you is totally another servant you hardly know. _

"We're meet alot, apparently the ladies we're with are really good friends or something." Wisteria continued, before Cynthia suspected anything. "Isn't it...well, just so cool? Too bad Steven isn't here-" She couldn't help but giggle, but it was a context-appropriate giggle. Nothing suspicious. "-to see this."

Cynthia, having noticed that the other servant really looked like she wanted to die right now, addressed 'her' in a friendly manner; "Well, hello there. I'm Cynthia, and I'm sorry if you're a bit uncomfortable with this- and you are?"

A 'bit' uncomfortable was a major understatement, for reasons Cynthia would hopefully never know. Wisteria quickly broke in, because right then the 'girl' beside her had turned a ghastly shade of white- one that matched her hair.

"Oh, she's called Yue**(1)**. That's 'you-eh'; she's from China see? Her kind of people have small eyes and pale skin. She's really shy, apparently back where she came from there aren't any people with pale hair like hers and she was made fun of. So now she doesn't speak much."

'Yue' nodded furiously, but still mantained her stare at the ground, refusing to make any eye contact.

"How'd she get this kind of hair?" Cynthia asked curiously, since -like Wisteria said- silvery hair (in rather pretty ringlets) wasn't really common where 'Yue' came from. She reached out curiously, wanting to touch one of the two ponytails Yue's hair was divided into- the maid gave a cry and lept backwards.

_-W-what are you doing?_

_-Hair extensions, obviously. You'll NEVER pass off as a good and proper girl looking like this; so to start with I'll just lengthen your hair to a more acceptable length. _

_-Oh no, no-no-no-_

_-You want the others to recognize you on sight? Sheesh! It won't hurt or anything! I just have to clip- this- here- and- put -on -the- curlers- STOP MOVING!_

"O-oh! Sorry, I didn't realize you were sensitive about that!" Cynthia apologized, feeling guilty for frightening the maid like that. "Are you alright?"

Wisteria quickly grabbed Yue's wrist, her eyes wide in concern. Yue nodded again, her eyes flickering back down to the ground- but not before Cynthia managed to discern their color from under the metallic bangs.

Yue's eyes were a very pretty light green- bordering on teal, like Steven's, but a bit brighter. Maybe it was the expertly-applied eyeshadow brushed onto her eyelids- dark blue-green fading off to a lighter ice blue, giving her eyes a mysterious look and emphasizing the brightness of her gaze-

_-...what's that you're holding?_

_-...ever heard of makeup? Wait, don't answer that; considering how you spent your life before today you probably wouldn't have. Don't worry, I promised painlessness. Just close your eyes-_

_-Wait, you're going to put that on my eyes?_

_-The label reads 'eyeshadow'._

_-Oh come on! You never put makeup on any of the other girls before!_

_-I'm not wasting my personal set on anything but serious cases- like yourself. I know what I'm doing! This color's perfect for you; it'll bring out your eyes!_

"...I think we should head back to work..." Wisteria said, sounding very worried as her face wrinkled up in an unfanthomable expression.

"I guess..." Cynthia conceded. "Have you seen any hair ribbons?"

Yue's head snapped up- she immediately ripped off the pair of ribbons dangling uselessly from her wrists and flung it at Cynthia like they were poison. The blonde looked in surprise at the ribbons she had suddenly come into possession of- they were a fine shade of rose pink, with green trimming. Lady Esperion would be sastified.

"Are you sure you don't need-" Wisteria started disapprovingly, but Yue shook her head fervently. Cynthia looked at the maid with sympathy; the girl had problems.

_-Ribbons?_

_-Correction. Lots of Ribbons. And some long stockings; the uniform doesn't exactly cover up to your ankles like your usual clothes do.I do care, you know._

_-If you care at all, you have a strange way of showing it-_

_-Just put them on. _

"Well, thanks then. Good luck!" Cynthia smiled at Yue encouragingly, nodded at Wisteria and left for Lady Esperion- who by now would probably be very angry with her tardiness, but she could make up for that later.

Wisteria stood and stared until Cynthia had entirely disappeared from view, then looked around to check that they were truly alone, before turning and flashing a triumphant smile at Yue.

"I told you they wouldn't recognize you, _Steven_."

'Yue' scowled, and snapped- in a voice that was obviously not a girl's- "Whatever, Wisteria. Let's just get this over with."

"My sentiments exactly."

They turned and headed back to where they were respectively due.

[later]

Later that evening Steven returned -again in his usual clothing- with an appropriately sheepish look on his face. Wisteria appropriately threw a raging fit, ranting for about fifteen minutes before Steven decided to cut things short and attempt redeeming himself- by producing the exact amount of money he would have earned anyway had he not left.

Wisteria simmered down unusually quickly, but after all, with Wisteria it was usually about the money and how the money was going to help the group survive. So no one suspected anything.

Not even when Steven turned a ghastly pale colour when Cynthia, Orion and Zilyana all remarked about 'Yue', how similar she looked with Steven, how pretty she was, and how sympathetic they all felt about her ridiculously low self-esteem. Wisteria snickered, and nodded.

Although maybe some of them might have started to think twice about things when Wallace noticed the smudge of dark eyeshadow on Steven's left eyelid.

Cue hysterical laughter from Wisteria. Steven made a hasty exit.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **(1) In **_**Avatar: the Last Airbender**_** Princess Yue of the Northern Water Tribe was the only Water Tribe youth with pure whitish hair- in her case it was because she was touched by the moon spirits. But if I use anything related to minerals or metal it would be too obvious.****

**Snowkittyn:** I'll see how good you are at noticing then~ I'm happy, I found someone else that agree that Lucian is some degree of awesome~ \o/

**Perpetual Dreams**: I need to find a place to put Red in, so if there isn't one he won't appear. Sorry about that.

Thanks for reviewing!


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